


Quit running, you'll die tired.

by Jezmatron



Series: Space Captain Catra [4]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Bounty Hunter, F/M, Piracy, SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE - Freeform, SPAAAAACE, Slice of Life, Space AU, Star fighter battle, criminals, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:20:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27315424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jezmatron/pseuds/Jezmatron
Summary: The hunt is everything. The hunt is life. The hunt keeps you going.But who's the hunter and who's the prey in this little chase?
Relationships: Mermista/Sea Hawk (She-Ra)
Series: Space Captain Catra [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935604
Comments: 22
Kudos: 35





	Quit running, you'll die tired.

The hunt was all that mattered. The hunt was life. The thrill of tracking, chasing,  _ outwitting _ your prey.

People new to the reality of it all thought it was about the  _ fight _ , the final, bloody showdown. Some witty quip and the fastest person on the trigger; the ping of an IFF (Identifier: Friend or Foe) across the void and your ability to draw down with a slug or a spear.

No. The  _ reality _ was patience: ensuring your prey was in the place you wanted them. Establishing a pattern, understanding who and what it was that you hunted. Even going so far to befriend or inveigle yourself to better place yourself for that opportune moment to strike.

It was a poor hunter who chased; a better hunter walked. The best hunters sat, waiting, for the prey to trap themselves.

That was where they beauty lay - crafting the best trap, the most opportune situation and then seeing the face of the prey as they understood how well they had been outmanoeuvred; their tricks and trivial moves in some game all meaningless. You didn’t play several moves ahead: you played a different game which the target hadn’t even realised they were a mere pawn within.

Which was why she now sat in a cold, nearly airless cockpit, her envirosuit sealed. The ship's power was dialled down so far that her vessel barely even registered as solar radiation. Her crewmates were similarly ensconced in the turret blisters, which were set to minimal power on their own circuits, a manual harpoon set in each. Those were for  _ after _ the trap had been baited, of course.

Her vessel, a utilitarian design that resembled a thing called a  _ horse-shoe crab _ on some worlds, was currently anchored to the surface of an asteroid. One of many in this abject backwater of a system; her view was trained on another rock maybe twenty clicks off - a minuscule distance in stellar terms. But far enough that, with the ship’s power down, they were practically invisible. Especially as she’d anchored the ship in a dark crater.

The other rock was host to a dead-drop, one used by the various factions in the system. She wasn’t particularly bothered as to the  _ who _ . Pirates, rebels, smugglers.

That last one was her only vague interest, mostly due to the fact that her target was one. And, according to the scuttlebutt and rumours in a few of the local (And nearby system) bars, a particularly loudmouthed one. Spent too freely on a tab, was a little too careless with other people’s money and a bit  _ too _ friendly with some people’s near-and-dears.

Again, not something that concerned her. Unless there was a price tag attached.

And for this piece of rock-dust-trash, there was. One signed by some high and mighty back on Prime. Managed through a local broker, of course; no way in hell would she do direct business with the Empire. They had a dim view of  _ former _ troops. Especially ones with records like hers.

She flexed a well muscled shoulder, the cramp slowly settling in. Seventeen hours sat like this. Her crew-mates were sleeping in shifts. She wasn’t.

Enough stims, plus her natural physiology meant she didn’t need as much rest.

Currently she was watching the other ‘roid through a manual optic - a very advanced telescope, basically. She’d seen some pirate vessel zip in and anchor a crate, the  _ package _ . She was proud of that touch.

Normally, she’d have to find out about the pirates, then find out about their routes, then their timelines for doing drops or picking up from stations. Or she’d have had to try grabbing the smuggler on a populated station - always risky. Or tailing his ship; again, risky.

But in  _ this _ case, she’d managed to find the pirate crew and arrange for a package to be delivered. She’d claimed she needed to use  _ illicit _ channels to avoid Imperial entanglements. That the package needed a solid smuggler. She hadn’t named names - that’d have given the game away. No, instead she’d managed to get the idiot  _ himself _ to take the job by dropping hints and commenting, whilst ‘drunk’ that she wasn’t sure the pirates could find a decent enough runner.

Oh, yeah, she’d met the guy. Had drinks with him. Even had a surprisingly difficult arm wrestling contest in some dive on one of the moons. Full of scum and freighter captains, but with a view of the gas giant that was, shockingly, kind of beautiful.

But, yeah, she’d met him. He was a blowhard, charming in his way and absolutely  _ full  _ of it.

She could’ve risked ganking him there and then, dragged him to the ship and blasted for the nearest RV point to hand him to a broker or even an Imp patrol; but there was something  _ wrong _ about doing that to someone in a bar, over drinks. It didn’t feel sporting. Brawling was one thing; the job was another.

And she really wanted to be able to go back to that bar at some point.

Her lips stretched into a smile as she caught sight of the flare of engines through the optic. She clicked the comm button on her suit twice, an indicator to her crew that it was  _ showtime _ . She reached out and flicked the ignition switched across the sparse control panel; not full power yet - she needed to ensure the party-trick worked first. Then it would be a simple matter of cruising over, anchoring the idiot’s vessel and towing him to the collection point. After ensuring the first half of her fee was transferred, of course.

Her grin broadened as she watched the small vessel through the optic - a snub nosed shuttle, built for speed and minimal sensor shadow. It could  _ possibly _ make it to another system via a Gate, but likely just a yacht salvaged from a larger ship. The idiot was a local boy, that was for sure. Big fish, small pond. Always the way with backwater yokels.

They all thought they were Big News.

She knew big stories. She’d fought  _ legends _ in her time. Hunted monsters and men and fought in some of the bloodiest campaigns the Empire had waged.

But war wasn’t  _ fun _ . It wasn’t a  _ thrill _ . It was butchery on a mechanical scale. The closest she’d gotten to joy and freedom was the scouting; the reconnaissance; outwitting the enemy via clever tactics and thinking their way out if hopeless situations.

Which was why she did  _ this _ now. All the fun, less of the killing. It was more personal. More involved. And she got to pick and choose.

There was a flicker in the optic and she barked a laugh - the EMP charge in the package had gone off and the shuttle was dead in the void. Her wrist flicked and the small corvette came to life. It was a former Horde Patrol Craft - a gunship, really. With some after-market modifications of her own design. She’d commanded a wing of the things and had decided she wanted one as part of her  _ severance _ package from the Horde.

She hadn’t bothered asking permission. One of the reasons she avoided  _ direct _ engagement with most Horde ships and personnel, outside of the odd fringe patrols. Mainly because they didn’t  _ care _ . She was a known quantity to them. Of course it meant she could never head back to the Core systems but frankly that wasn’t exactly an issue.

She’d never been one for high fashions or the Officer’s Mess lifestyle.

“Toad, Bar-eyes, get those harpoons trained. Fire mag clamps when we’re in effective range.”

_ “Copy that Huntara,” _ the bleating voice crackled over the internal comm; Huntara nodded to herself. These two were reliable. They’d get it done.

Her ship hummed to life and detached from the rock. She gunned the engines and did a quick system check as they drifted towards the disabled ship. Her scanner came online as did the holographic display listing the ammo counter for her autoguns and rocket pods. She wouldn’t need them, but that wasn’t to say there wasn’t another Bounty hunter out there aiming to steal a claim. Sometimes you had to get  _ forceful _ in your arguments about claim-jumping.

Her IFF pinged up with the shuttle and its designation:  _ Dragon’s Daughter 5 _ .

“What the hell happened to the other four,” chuckled Huntara. Her hud flashed green as they came within effective range.

And then two things happened.

First, her screen lit up as the shuttle’s engine roared to life. Second, her corvette rattled as the harpoons fired.

And missed.

The shuttle  _ somehow _ had power and had shot out of the way at the last moment. Which meant her twin harpoons were now magnetically locked to the dead drop. Huntara blinked in surprised, then grappled for her comm, “DISENGAGE DAMMIT! Retract and re-anchor, we’ve got a runner!”

“ _ I thought you said…” _

“NOW!”

She gunned the thrusters and pivoted the ship, angling after the shuttle’s escape trajectory. Precious seconds passed as the clamps disengaged and she ratchetted power to the engines. She had to be careful otherwise the harpoon spools could wrap around the ship and cause gods-knew what damage.

Huntara was  _ angry _ now. No way should some rust-bucket shuttle be able to shrug off an EMP. Even a backup system would’ve been down for the count. Surely?

Also, the guy was an  _ idiot _ . 

Right?

She’d met him, spoken with him, had her crew follow him to check his station-habits. He was a drunkard, a gambler, a  _ poser _ . Half the station seemed to barely tolerate him. And he flew something that looked like it belonged in a museum.

Lucky, that’s what he was. Damned lucky.

Well, luck lasted only so long. She snarled and punched the engines to maximum, let the force push her into her flight-seat, then angled the controls. Her hud lit up to trace the energy trail - it led towards a small moon not far off, through a debris thicket.  _ No escape for you, little man _ .

Her sensors pinged to indicate the shuttle up ahead - no way he was going to reach the damn moon. Weird he was running for it anyway - he’d be easier in an atmosphere. Maybe he wanted to bounce off the grav-well, slingshot away? Use it to mask his sensor shadow?

Or he was running for a bolt hole. Cowards always did.

Her computer fed her several firing arcs and, for a moment, she considered a rocket. But that was a last resort - the bounty was for him  _ alive _ . Dead, she’d just get a docket reward, barely enough to cover fuel.

Didn’t mean she couldn’t scare the son of a bitch a little.

She lined up the holographic sight, let the computer make the necessary calculations and squeezed the trigger. The ship rumbled with the muffled  _ thud-thud-thud _ of the auto-guns and a line of tracer fire lanced through the inky black to obliterate a slab of floating debris. She chuckled as the shuttle veered away from the flash of fragmenting scrap, trying to weave through the cloud of wrecked ships and drifting rock.

Huntara keyed the comm, “Pilot of the _Dragon’s Daughter_ _5_ , surrender. We have an outstanding bounty warrant for your apprehension, under Imperial edict 53, yadda yadda. You gonna come quietly? I hate chasing… you guys always go down _tired_.”

There was the hiss of static, then the idiot’s insufferable voice came over the line,  _ “My word! Are those the dulcet tones of fair Huntara I hear? And I bought you a round and everything!” _

“You put my drink on a tab, then bailed,” growled the bounty hunter.

“ _ And that merits a bounty and… a rather shoddy ambush? I hadn’t realised I had offended the bar staff so thoroughly. But Captain Sea Hawk pays his debts a thousand fold! Never let it be said that….” _

“Can it, moustache man. Haul to, shut down your drives, come quietly and we’ll make your last few days comfortable.”   


_ “Brandy?” _

“Sort of.”

_ “Oh, well, tempting as the offer is, I must decline. Ta ta!” _

She saw the flare of engines in her periphery and chuckled - he’d been drifting, pretending to be space junk. Unfortunately for  _ him _ , she was wise to that trick. Yeah, he’d gotten away from her snare, now it was time for the spear. And maybe she’d be able to work out  _ how _ he’d done it. Every day a lesson and all that.

The gunship angled and she let loose another burst, aiming for his engines. But somehow he  _ jinked _ the craft to the right and did a small roll. Her shots went wide. She harrumphed, then keyed the comms, “Hey, idiots. Burst fire, explosive rounds, knock his engines out. Harpoon when we get within 500 metres.”

_ “Uhhh rrrrrrright,”  _ that was Toad. She was the less… vocal of the pair. But she sounded nervy.

Huntara pushed that thought away - the guy was better than she’d anticipated. A blowhard and an ass, but maybe not an unskilled blowhard and an ass. Clearly she’d gotten a poor read on him. Most arrogant types were used to being top of the game in their local area. She just underestimated him temporarily, that was all.

Another few bursts, followed by some wider shots by her gunners kept the shuttle in a tight window. He couldn’t easily maneuver, so she just needed to close the distance to get the gunners to grapple. Then it was  _ game over _ .

The shuttle banked suddenly and spun behind a fragment of what had possibly been a fragment of a freighter’s hull a lifetime ago. Huntara swore then pitched the gunship to go  _ over _ the chunk of metal. The shuttle didn’t look armed but he’d sprung one surprise already. And she didn’t want to follow his flight path into a hail of lead. Her ship was armoured, but you survived by not putting that to the test.

She drifted and angled the ship, allowing momentum to carry the vessel as she swung the guns down.

Nothing.

Then she saw the damnable shuttle in her periphery again as it roared  _ at them _ and then past them. She felt the turrets firing and  _ heard _ the clunk of a harpoon. The ship jolted as the cable connected to some debris, which sent them into a spin, “SHIT! Cut it loose idiots! I need to… compensate.”

Huntara saw a chunk of broken struts swing by as her ship’s momentum yanked it along. She shifted the thrusters to the side, then gunned the engine to arrest their previous trajectory, then pushed the main engines to full, to regain pursuit. Her HUD showed the  _ DD5 _ was now clearing the debris field and still angling for that damn moon.

She needed to finish this now - he was  _ good _ . But now he was in the open. Which meant he had to rely on being mobile and  _ fast _ .

But she was  _ pissed _ now. Which meant the gloves were off.

Her fingers flicked over the control panel and the rocket pods came to life, the covers sliding open. She primed a flak rocket and let the computer line up the laser lock, “Last chance, asshole.”

_ “But where would the ADVENTURE be in just giving up, dear lady? Life needs challenge, adversity.” _

_ “ _ Big ass explosions.”   


_ “Yes! Big ass explo… wait, what?” _

The rocket launched as she cleared the edge of the debris field. At 150 metres it detonated and a cone of shrapnel right into the shuttle’s rear. He’d tried to avoid it, but it was open space and she had enough distance to keep an easy laser lock. She watched the vessel tumble from the impact, at least one engine pod knocked out.

“Told you. Now, if you’re done barfing, be a good boy and shut your damn engines down.”

She saw the shuttle slow and drift, the small puffs of the minor thrusters arresting its tumble. They were now being carried by momentum into the moon’s upper orbit. A grey waste, by the looks of it - she couldn’t imagine what the hell he was hoping to achieve hiding on basically the stellar equivalent of a flat table.

They drifted closer and she grinned as the two harpoons latched onto the small shuttle. Another screen flickered to life as the cables pulled all the data and access streams to the vessel’s systems. She made swift work of shutting down the engines and thrusters, slaving them to her own vessel.

“ _ Well played. Quite the chase.” _

“Yeah yeah. You say it like it was a challenge,” grumbled Huntara. She grudgingly admitted he’d surprised her, but damned if she was going to say it.

_ “Seems a lot of effort to go to. I mean, I suppose I should have suspected something after that whole banter in the bar. Look at you! A hulking beauty, carved from the finest purple marble! Practically pleading for help?” _

“I’m flattered,” she deadpanned, “But you ain’t my  _ type _ .”

_ “Well, I suppose not. And I suppose noting that the package had an EMP device within it should have clued me in sooner.” _

Huntara paused as she ran through the system checks and frowned, “You  _ knew _ ?”

“ _ Of course! We’re not AMATEURS here, you know? Ran a system check. We did assume it was you smuggling a weapon out. Lots of rebel sympathisers you know. An EMP in Horde space? What a STORY! What could be going on? It sounded DARING! Someone smuggling a device to strike back at the oppressor!” _

She felt a twinge at that, “Not my game, buddy. Empire’s too big. What’d one device do? Anyway, your loss. Lesson learned for next time, right?”

_ “Oh I doubt there’ll be a next time! I think I’m due for a firing squad, you know?” _

“Them’s the breaks.”

_ “True, true. Say, you want to know why this one’s called the Dragon’s Daughter 5?” _

“Can’t say I do. You gonna be this chatty all the way, or do we need to knock you out?”

_ “Funny story really. There I was, keel hauled by PIRATES! From Nebulon B, no less.” _

“There’s no place called Nebulon B.”

_ “THAT YOU KNOW OF! Anyway, there I was… trapped. No where to go. So, I set my ship on fire! Threatened to burn myself alive!” _

“Did it work?” she chuckled and began to winch the ship closer.

“ _ Oh no, but it did make them come closer, thinking I, the brave and valiant SEA HAWK! Had completely lost it.” _

“Uh huh.”   


_ “And it meant that I got to do this.” _

She looked up and saw  _ something _ detach from the back of the  _ DD5 _ \- a small EVA vehicle. Bigger than a pod, smaller than a ship.

Her eyes bulged and she looked at the  _ DD5 _ . Its engines flared to life and she swung to stare at her  _ supposedly slaved _ indicators. Which showed the ship  _ should have no power _ .

Except there was a rather large energy build up.

“BRACE! DISENGAGE THE CLAMPS!”

She swung the ship to the side and hammered the throttle. The harpoons disconnected, but a second too late - the  _ DD5  _ was yanked into a near-collision trajectory. Huntara swore and tried to spin the ship. If it didn’t hit then…

The  _ Dragon’s Daughter 5 _ exploded. Hull fragments slammed into the gunship. Alarms blared as one of the engines guttered out. She heard a scream of fear over the comm, which cut out. Her vision started to darken as the ship fell towards the moon, locked in a death spiral.

Painfully, muscles screaming over every inch, she reached for the flight stick and managed to grab it. No atmosphere, so no airbreaking. No resistance. Which meant unless she levelled them out, got a good angle, they were going to be able to fit through cracks  _ sideways _ .

The consoles blared out meaningless warnings and she could barely register the altimeter alert. She wrestled with the controls and managed to stop the spin. She frantically flipped at switches and got the engines to gutter, then flare back to life. She hauled back on the flight stick as the grey, rocky ground approached at alarming speed.

The ship screamed as it came in, the trajectory flattening. It shook as the belly clipped the edge of a crater but held level. There was a whine and the ship rocked as one of the engines failed. Her view angled to the side and she tried to haul the stick again. The moon had very low gravity, but gravity nonetheless. It hauled them down and she yanked the throttle into reverse - if they hit ground now, they’d be sheared to pieces by the speed.

The ship rattled and groaned then shuddered as the other engine failed. They dropped and skidded across the dusty surface of the moon. There was a crunch as they hit a large outcrop and the vessel spun, then rolled. Huntara slammed about in her seat and swore. Then after several more crashes and crunches the ship rocked to a halt.

She groaned and checked the system - half her screens were dead, but the damage indicator had red on it. It was red. Mostly red. She quickly checked for wounds but realised that, no, the damage to the ship was just that bad. With a wince, she clicked the comm.

“You guys still alive?"

_ “Barely….” _ came the bleat from Bar-eyes. She sounded in pain.

_ “N...not sure… Think… arm broken,” _ that was Toad - she sounded a  _ lot _ worse for wear.

“Hang tight…. Gonna… gonna get us..” Huntara groaned as she unbuckled from the flight seat, then pushed her way back into the main body of the ship. She groaned as she spotted several gouged out holes; the main bay was  _ shot _ , a gaping hole in the side. That meant their meagre sleeping “quarters” (Basically bunks in a corridor) would be vacuum exposed as well. Good job they were all already in their suits.

She clambered through to their bunks and found the first aid kit. Her two crew were emerging from the access ladder to the turrets, Toad cradling an arm. Huntara nodded gruffly, “Got pain stims here… but we need to set that. Gonna hurt like a bitch.”

Toad nodded and stretched her arm out. Huntara felt along the limb, made to look away, then twisted it. Toad shrieked and promptly fainted. Huntara took that moment to apply the stims to the suit’s access port, then looked at Bar-eyes.

The goat-woman regarded her then looked at the ship, “So… this went well.”   


Huntara snorted, “Asshole was prepared. But still.”

“You got cocky.”

Huntara grimaced and then nodded, “Very cocky. Who  _ is _ this guy?”

“No idea….”  
  
“ _ LADIES! _ ” the voice cut over the comm, “ _ I see you have survived! Thank goodness, I had hoped so. If you would be so kind as to vacate your vessel? It looks about ready to pop and it would be a shame to have survived such a dramatic descent only to be obliterated by a malfunctioning plasma coil!” _

Huntara growled and hauled her blaster from its holster. She hoisted Toad over her shoulder and led Bar-eyes to the hold and the access-hatch that sat against one wall. The goat-woman groaned as she forced it open and the trio emerged from the crashed vessel.

Their target stood a few yards away, one foot planted atop a piece of fragmented metal. He had a navy-blue space suit on, along with a ridiculous bubble helmet. Huntara growled and levelled her weapon at him, “Surrender.”

“My my! Persistent!” The man still had his ridiculous moustache, clearly visible through the helmet, “Pray tell how you plan to conduct me to my inevitable execution?”

“Fix the ship up, get space born, limp to a station… you’ve got your fancy EVA…. can always use that,” Huntara kept her weapon trained on him. He was  _ ridiculously _ calm.

“Ahhh but it only sits two with a  _ squeeze _ . I know, I’ve done it many times. Ahhh… My  _ dearest _ does enjoy it for some of our more  _ risque _ adventures!”

“Shut up and put your hands on your head.”   
  
“Very rude to converse with weapons drawn. Hardly in the spirit of  _ parley _ .”

“Ain’t no parley, chum. You’re under arrest and…”

He moved fast, his foot coming off the metal, then hooking it up with a toe. He then spun and gave it a roundhouse kick. Huntara fired as he moved, but his movement meant the shot went wide. In the low gravity, the scrap came at her fast. She had to dodge one way.

Which meant she wasn’t ready for  _ him _ to come at her, a  _ sword _ in hand. Well, less a sword, more a plasma welder that had an  _ arc _ of energy out to the length of a blade. He swung it with precision and her pistol fell apart. Huntara jerked her hand back and was amazed to see she still had her fingers.

The man, Sea Hawk smiled, “Allow me to present an  _ alternative _ . You come to work for us, on retainer. We noticed your skills in tracking  _ me _ down, but we had assumed you just wanted a good smuggler. But we are always on the look out for  _ talent _ .”

Huntara glowered at him, “And who’s this  _ we _ ?”

Sea Hawk chuckled, “Well now… give them… five… four… three….”

Above them a ship suddenly  _ materialised _ . Decloaked in fact. Huntara stared up at it, “What the hell…?”

“That, my dear Huntara, is the Dragon. Straight out of Salineas Shipyards. And the Captain would like to speak to you.”   


The comms crackled,  _ “Sea Hawk, where is my shuttle?” _

The man’s smile faltered ever so slightly, “Um, well… dearest… I may have had to…”

_ “You set it on fire.” _

“I set it on fire. In my defence…”

_ “Yyyyeah, like, I saw,” _ there was a faint cough over the line, “ _ Not that I care. Just about the shuttle. That’s FIVE now Sea Hawk.” _

“That you know of,” mumbled the man.

“ _ What?” _

“Right on the money dearest. ANYWAY! I have our newest potential recruits right here….”

“ _ Uh huh, right, cool. How they feel about anti Imperial piracy, general looting and, like, guaranteed work?” _

Sea Hawk pursed his lips and looked at Huntara. She scowled at him, “I think she’s stubborn, oh-keeper-of-my-heart.”

_ “Ugh, over open comms, really? It’s, like, not even a THING, Sea Hawk.” _

“Is this your little shuttle liaison girl?” deadpanned Huntara. Behind her, Bar-eyes and Toad (Who seemed vaguely conscious now) were gawking up at  _ The Dragon _ .

“ _ You TOLD her? Sea Hawk I am going to absolutely MURDER you… or I would if you were worth the effort…” _

The man harrumphed and Huntara grinned, “I like her. Hey, girlie, you sure you don’t want me to take this chump off your hands? Maybe rough him up….?”   


“ _ Touch him and die, pinkie. Only I can bruise those goods. But I like your thinking in the broad sense. As long as you aren’t chasing down one of the best pilots in the sector, of course.” _

Huntara grimaced, “So, what, we go with you, or you, what, leave us here to fix our ship?”

_ “Uhhhh maybe? Or maybe I get the Dragon to blast your fun little gunship to pieces and we leave you guys to asphyxiate. You did try to kidnap my boy…. Smuggler. My smuggler.” _

Sea Hawk chuckled and leaned forward conspiratorially, “She won’t. I’ll put in a good word. Say no and, well… I’m sure we can part amicably. For now.”

Huntara looked over her shoulder at her wrecked ship. They  _ could _ …  _ maybe _ … patch it up. Maybe. Then get to a local station. Then… run out of cash getting it servicable. Run local jobs. Except… she looked up at the  _ Dragon _ , “So, uh… how likely am I to get any work out here if we say no.”

_ “Like, practically nil. We wanted to see how good you were. Kinda good, I guess. Except for being taken out by a chump suicide run. That’s points against, y’know. EVERYONE knows not to try to box in Sea Hawk. He has the self preservation skills of a dazed Frostan Lemming. Freaking annoying, y’know?” _

“Uhhhh.”

_ “So, yeah, like, choose. Not got all day. Sea Hawk, get your ass up here. We need to talk about boundaries. And ships. And what you need to do to make it up to me.” _

“Yes dear.”   


_ “And, like, glad you weren’t actually captured by a bounty hunter and, like, executed and all that. I’d have not enjoyed, y’know, blowing stuff up… nearly as much. Also, having to kill pinkie there. That’d totally suck.” _

Huntara blinked, “Uh… so, she’d have…”   


“Oh yes, I do believe she’d have spaced you if you’d have actually sold me off,” Sea Hawk planted his fists on his hips, “Luckily no harm no foul as they say! So, care to come aboard? We do have a medical bay  _ and _ a well stocked bar. We can haggle terms, what’s off limits and so on. I doubt you’ll get a better deal. And I’m sure we can even haul your ship in, get it patched up.”

“What’s that going to cost me?” grumbled the bounty hunter.

“Maybe a percentage of your first few jobs. We aren’t sharks. We’re pirates. You don’t get loyalty by  _ blackmail _ . And it’s hardly freedom with a threat over you, now is it. This is an ADVENTURE, my dear Huntara. Won’t you be part of it?”

The muscular woman sighed and stared up at the floating cruiser, then over at her wrecked ship, then back at her crew.

She’d been played. Sea Hawk hadn’t been the prey - he’d been the  _ bait _ .

A good hunter knows when the odds are against them. When to call it a day. And maybe, just maybe, to be a bit more humble and  _ learn _ .

She shrugged, “Well, let’s hear you guys out. As long as I get to do what I do best.”

“That’s the spirit! Now…. how do you feel about  _ shanties _ ?”

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted a fun little look at the OTHER characters - Huntara as a grizzled bounty hunter just clicked in my head. Sea Hawk as an ACTUALLY COMPETENT but STILL ANNOYING smuggler.
> 
> And of course Mermista as, basically, a pirate queen.
> 
> Also trying to improve my action scene descriptions, as G&F and Live By the Sword are about to get a fair FEW coming up ;)


End file.
